Night Out
by sarabethloves
Summary: Velvet black dresses, overprotective superior officers, hidden guns, secretive reconnaissance operations, and a certain lieutenant's superior acting...and aim. Typical Saturday night for Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye.


**Here's a little something for Royai Day 2017! I'm just ignoring the fact that I literally started this on _last year's_ Royai Day and just be happy it got done, lol. Hope you guys like it!**

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"I can't believe you roped me into doing this…again," Riza Hawkeye lamented as she brushed a piece of her loose hair behind her diamond-studded ears. She and her superior officer were walking, arm in arm, toward a secluded jazz club in the business district of Central. They'd gotten a tip that a popular crime lord frequented this particular place quite often and were ready to do some reconnaissance.

"Look at it this way," an extra cocky Roy Mustang said as they approached the club and the sound of the black pumps she had borrowed from Lieutenant Catalina were playing like music to his ears. "At least you have somewhere entertaining to be on a Saturday night."

Riza rolled her eyes at that statement. "I would much rather be in my apartment with my dog, a glass of Merlot, and a good book than spying on some wealthy thief with you, sir. No offense," she added as an afterthought. A cold breeze swept through the street they were walking down and Riza pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders with the hand not currently linked with Mustang's arm.

"None taken. I'm just glad you agreed to Rebecca's makeover," Mustang told her with a pleased smile.

Again, Riza rolled her eyes at how _obvious_ her commanding officer was being. He could at least try to be subtle. The last time he had gotten her to accompany him on one of these particular kinds of undercover operations, she had dressed herself up and had apparently 'disappointed' Mustang as well as her best friend with her 'unimpressive' and 'drab' formal attire. _"Come on, Riza, places like these are where rich guys like the one you're trying to nab take their pampered squeezes. Women at these kinds of clubs are less on the conservative side and more on the 'if you got it, flaunt it' side. You need to look the part,"_ Lieutenant Catalina had reprimanded her once she got word of what Riza had decided to wear the last time.

As for Mustang, he only cared about getting a rare glimpse of his subordinate in something other than her unflattering blue uniform. Those kinds of instances were rare, and Colonel Roy Mustang took what he could get. So, he collaborated with Rebecca and got her in a rather revealing black, velvet number with the appropriate amount of heavy makeup and seductive hair styling. Riza complained the whole time, but she _was_ trying to play the part. The sooner they succeeded at this mission, the sooner she could get both Mustang and Catalina off her back.

"You and Rebecca wouldn't have let me off the hook if I hadn't," Riza sighed as she spoke. "Let's just get this over with."

"Whatever you say, my love," Mustang told her, switching into the obliviously-in-love newlywed trying out a new jazz club and not the military officer looking to catch a top criminal with his trusted subordinate that he actually was.

Riza gave him one last pointed look as if warning him not to push it before she also got herself in the right mindset and they entered the secluded club.

The smooth music washed over them both as they sauntered inside where a smoky atmosphere greeted them. Couples lounged on couches or at tables as a jazz band played on the makeshift stage. A bartender in the back corner was busily mixing drinks and making small talk with the ones gathered there. All in all it was your typical swanky club. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary and after they both took a quick cursory glance around, they figured the target hadn't arrived yet.

They silently agreed to start at the bar and made their way over. Mustang flagged down the bartender as soon as he could and ordered them both drinks. "A glass of Scotch, neat, for me and my beautiful wife would like a glass of your finest Merlot," Mustang said before he gave her his most adoring look. He was clearly putting it on strong and Riza had to use immense restraint not to roll her eyes at his cheesiness. He must be getting his idea of a newlywed man from Hughes.

Not one to be outdone by anyone, Riza slid her hand up the middle of his chest and returned his look, flashing the large diamond ring a wife of a general had lent her.

A patron sitting on a barstool to their right seemed to notice and gave Riza an appreciate look over, not caring about Mustang's calculated and angry glance.

"Hey, you two don't look familiar. I know I would remember seeing _you_ ," he said with a half-drunken slur as he nodded toward Riza. Mustang's hand promptly slid out from her arm and wrapped around her waist possessively.

"We just moved over here and have been looking for fun Saturday night spots," Mustang spoke, his voice slightly strained, though Riza figured the man didn't notice.

"Ah, I see. Newlyweds, I take it?"

"Yes, we are," this time it was Riza who answered, as she leaned more into her commanding officer. She could tell this helped calm him down a bit. No sense in blowing their cover right away.

"Just got back from our honeymoon a few weeks ago, actually," Mustang added, feeling more confident.

"Ah, well congratulations," the man said as he tipped his glass of whatever he was drinking toward them. They nodded in thanks. "I've been coming to this club for…well, I guess it's been about five years now. Hasn't been around for long but it's a good place. Most people you see are regulars. Everyone tends to stick around."

Now they were getting somewhere. They had both been in the military long enough to recognize openings for information when they came along and this was textbook.

"Ah, I see. What kinds of people frequent this place?" Mustang asked as the bartender handed the 'couple' their drinks and they settled next to the unidentified patron.

"All kinds. You got everything from construction workers to bankers. The ones on the less…ah… _affluent_ side like it because it makes them feel fancy and the booze is fairly cheap. The rich like it because it's hidden away. It's the kind of place you'd take a mistress to instead of a wife, if you know what I mean," the man explained, ending his statement with a wink in Riza's direction. Mustang's arm tightened around her once again and she raised an eyebrow.

"How many of these people do you know?" This time it was Riza who asked the question while she daintily sipped her wine.

"As acquaintances? Most of them. As friends? A few. That guy over there by the band is my neighbor, Joe. The man with the fancy suit and all the ladies around him is a well-known investment banker from uptown."

As the man continued going around the room explaining the various groups, the front door opened and a man with a commanding presence entered, flocked by two women in flashy outfits. He immediately started greeting those closest to the entrance as if they were longtime friends. Mustang and Hawkeye had studied the picture in the file on their crime lord target to know right away who he was.

They continued as if nothing happened, but a quick shared glance between them meant they were both on alert.

The man at the bar seemed to notice them staring and started answering their unasked question. "Ah, that there is one of the more well-known frequenters. He and the owner are pretty close, so we see him here a lot. His job description is a little bit more…blurry than most, though," the man said as he sipped his drink.

"What does that mean?" Riza asked, knowing that with men like the one they were talking to, enough questions from someone like Mustang and they'd start to get suspicious. If Riza kept questioning, they'd reveal whatever she asked of them. She usually had that effect on men, much to Mustang's chagrin. At least it seemed to be working in their favor this time.

"He deals with business, though his methods are a little bit more…unconventional. Military is always trying to track him down, but he's been pretty elusive so far. I've done some work for him once or twice. He pays well, at least."

Just as the man at the bar, whose name they still didn't know, finished his explanation, their target noticed him. Mustang and Hawkeye remained calm as he walked over to them, hoping they seemed like curious newcomers and not military officers.

"Hey, Felix. Who you got over here?" the crime lord asked as he looked at the pair, though his eyes were primarily fixed on Riza.

"Newbies. They just moved to the area and were looking for a fun weekend spot. I was just introducing them to the regulars."

"I see. Glad to have you here," the target leered as Mustang and Hawkeye could practically see the nasty fantasies he was entertaining in his mind's eye while he glanced up and down at Riza.

"I'd be careful where you're staring if I were you, Gary. They're newlyweds, and this guy has had his pretty wife in a vice grip ever since they got here," the man at the bar, Felix apparently, said with a chuckle. Mustang at least had the thought to seem sheepish and Riza let out a feminine giggle.

Their target, Gary Anderson, also thought it was funny, because he let out a laugh and slapped a hand on Mustang's shoulder. "You're certainly a lucky guy. If I were you, I'd never let her out of my sight." Anderson said a polite goodbye to Felix before turning and greeting another group he seemed to be familiar with.

Well, at least nothing about them seemed suspicious to their target. They still had to play the situation right if they were to get him tonight so they continued talking to Felix as if nothing happened. The night continued like this as they sipped their drinks and Felix introduced them to more patrons.

Eventually, they moved to a round table toward the back of the room with a few of their new friends. Anderson had yet to reappear, but they kept their eye on him as he flirted and flounced about the room like he owned the place.

Every so often, however, Anderson would look over at their group. Well, in reality, it was only at Riza. She seemed to have caught his eye, despite the fact that he thought she was newly married. Details like that seemed to be minor inconveniences for guys like Gary Anderson. Every time he did, Mustang noticed Riza's hand fell to her thigh and, almost like an unconscious tick, would rub over the velvety black material of her dress. To anyone else, it seemed meaningless, but Mustang knew she was feeling the slight protrusion from the gun holstered there and every time he had to contain a smirk at the act. Riza was ready to pull the damn thing out every time their target leered at her. This was why she hated undercover missions like this.

As the night wore on, the military officers grew antsy and figured it was time to spice things up. According to the signal they had agreed upon before arriving, Mustang, with his arm around Riza's shoulder, lightly tapped her arm exactly three times. As soon as a lull appeared in the conversation, she turned toward him.

"Darling, I just realized I left my purse in the car. I need to powder my nose real quick do you mind going and getting it for me?" she asked him innocently.

"Not at all, love. You should go get yourself another drink while I'm gone."

"If you insist," she told him with a wink, and Mustang inwardly commended her acting skills. She might hate these missions, but she sure as hell was good at them. As he walked out the door, Riza sauntered over to the bar and order another glass of wine. She could feel Anderson's eyes on her and pretended to look bored and lonely.

As both she and Mustang suspected, Anderson knew an opening when he saw one and was immediately by her side at the bar. She gave him a polite smile, while also trying to look mysterious. Guys like him loved it when she did that.

"Hey there, newcomer. Where'd that husband of yours go?" he asked as he leaned against the bar.

"I left my purse in the car. We had to park far away so I didn't want to have to walk all the way there and back. He went to go get it for me," she answered as her drink arrived and she took a demure sip.

"What a gentlemen," Anderson muttered to himself.

"He certainly is."

"Seems a little too uptight, though."

"How do you figure?" Riza asked curiously, knowing exactly where this conversation was going.

"Just the way he followed you around all night, like he wouldn't let you go for anything. I'm honestly surprised to see you got away from him for a little while."

Riza laughed lightly at that. "He does have his moments, I suppose. You know, he wouldn't even let me go to the store the other day. He was too worried someone would snatch me up while buying vegetables," she said jokingly and Anderson chuckled as expected.

"I guess he does have a point. You are by far the most beautiful woman in the room tonight," he said flirtatiously and Riza pretended to blush.

"You're too kind," she spoke, trying to act shy and slightly flustered by his words. On the inside, she was trying to prevent herself from gagging.

"You know, I have some friends here that can…keep him busy for a little while if you'd like," Anderson offered in a low voice as he leaned in closer to her. Riza suddenly felt his hand go to her thigh and she had a small moment of panic when she wondered if he'd feel the gun holstered there. Anderson's hand wandered higher, but, thankfully, stopped before it reached the leather strap carrying her (loaded) handgun.

Riza plastered a worried expression on her face, as good an actress as ever. This situation was playing out exactly how they wanted it to so far. She couldn't stray now. "You're not going to hurt him are you?" she asked, even throwing in a small pout for extra showmanship.

Anderson chuckled at that. "Oh, of course not, sweetheart. They'll just…occupy him for a bit. You deserve a break," he told her as he switched from rubbing up and down her thigh with one hand to lightly dragging his fingers across the skin of her upper arm with the other.

Riza couldn't remember the last time she'd had trigger finger this intensely.

"Well, I suppose so," she answered as Gary smiled at her slyly before making a small motion with his fingers to whatever henchmen he had lurking around the place. Riza didn't have to turn around to know they had left to go find her superior. They wouldn't get very far, she knew.

"How about we take this conversation to someplace a little more private?" Anderson proposed and Riza gave him another demure smile.

"Alright," she said with a look that promised everything a man could ever want as she stood and took Gary's proffered hand. He led her through the main room of the club and down a secluded hallway. They were heading to what she assumed was some kind of private backroom Anderson had reserved for whatever squeeze he was planning on…squeezing…for the night. But, before they could reach it, Riza spotted the door leading to the back alley she had scoped out a few days prior, and immediately stopped Anderson in his tracks.

"Actually, do you mind if we step outside a moment. I think all the wine is getting to my head. I need some fresh air."

For an instant, Anderson seemed to hesitate, not sure what to make of the sudden request, but eventually gave in. "Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want."

She smiled and began to lead him through the exit and into the alleyway. It was dark save for a single lamp hanging off the door illuminating only a small space ahead of them. Riza immediately dragged him into the shadows and prepared herself for what she knew she had to do.

She always hated this part.

As soon as they were out of the light, she pushed Anderson against the wall and gripped the lapels of his suit jacket before leaning in close, her voice taking on a desperate tone. "God, I thought we'd never get alone like this."

Gary's eyes widened but he didn't let the shock overtake him for too long before he grinned lecherously and moved his hands to her hips, one sliding dangerously close to her ass.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to get out of my house. My husband never lets me do anything. Always watching over me, always keeping me from doing what I want, and he has hardly a penny to his name."

Anderson smirked. "Well, sweetheart, it seems like we're after the same thing. I'll make you forget all about that deadbeat husband of yours. I promise I'll give you a night to remember."

Riza gave a rare smirk of her own at that, as their lips came dangerously close to each other. One of Riza's hands left its tight grip on his jacket and traveled further down his body. "How about I give you a night to remember?"

Before Anderson could even register what had happened, a telltale click was heard and the barrel of a .22 was resting against the underside of his chin.

It was completely silent for a moment as Anderson's eyes widened at the turn of events and Riza's narrowed, her finger placed precariously on the trigger.

As his body began to shake in fear, the well-known crime lord spoke, "W-who are you?"

One side of Riza's mouth lifted as she answered him, "My name is Riza Hawkeye and I'm with the military."

The words hadn't even left her mouth before Anderson shoved the gun out of the way and ran as fast as he could toward the street. In any normal circumstance, a target like that would have never gotten away from Riza. And, even if they had, she would've shot them down before they moved a foot.

But, she was feeling generous today. Got to give the colonel _something_ to do.

Before Anderson could get to the mouth of the alley the sound of a definitive snap echoed off the walls and a wall of flames erupted right in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. Slow, but sure, footsteps were heard as Gary turned to see Riza's "husband" emerge from the shadows at the other end of the alleyway. He walked up to where she stood, and placed his gloved hands nonchalantly back in his pockets, eyeing Anderson's terrified expression with glee. He'd had enough of watching the crime lord's hands wander to places they _shouldn't be_ on his lieutenant's black evening gown-clad body.

Practically struck dumb by fear, as he looked between the man who had just produced fire with a snap of his fingers and the woman who appeared to be rather well-armed, Anderson still had enough brain power left to stutter out. "Y-you're t-the F-Flame Alchemist."

"And you're under arrest," Mustang replied simply, not sparing the man a shred of sympathy. His list of crimes included more heinous acts than just simple weapons trading on the black market and drug dealing.

With his confident smirk back in place, Mustang lifted a small black handbag and gave it to his female companion. "Your purse, Lieutenant."

She took it from him with much of the same confidence he possessed, for once. Apparently, she was as sick of Anderson being all over her as Mustang was. "Thank you, sir."

She opened the bag and pulled out the only item resting inside: a pair of metal handcuffs. She walked over to their target, handcuffed him, and, using the barrel of her gun, delivered a swift and decisive blow to the side of Anderson's face, knocking him out cold.

"That's for grabbing my ass," she spoke in a deadly tone before brushing the dirt off her gown and walking back to where her superior stood, looking rather pleased.

"I just got off the phone with Fuery, so the MP's should be here soon to book him and take him back to headquarters," Mustang said, as they both glanced at Anderson's limp form.

"Good. I've had enough of his slobbering over me."

"I agree with you there," Roy said in a low voice before he smirked again and turned back toward his subordinate. "Though, I must admit, part of me can't blame him. You _do_ look damn good in that dress."

The look Riza gave him would have practically withered any other man beside Colonel Roy Mustang, but he was far too used to such looks to be negatively affected.

"Let's go home, sir. You have a case report to write first thing tomorrow morning," she told him in a reprimanding tone, leaving no room for argument. After her little acting spree, it seemed she was back to business as usual.

Though, Roy noticed gleefully, there was a slightly greater sway to her hips than normal as she walked away, as confident as ever. He really needed to start signing them up for these kinds of missions more often.


End file.
